Why aliens shouldn't listen to rap music
An aesthetically pleasing or harmonious sound
-Webster's Dictionary
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James Renner/Columnist
Voyager 1 passed the elliptical orbit of Pluto, the furthest planet from our sun, some time ago,
heading forward through the vast void of the universe, until the end of time. There is a gold-plated
disc attached to this space probe that contains information on our planets and ourselves in hopes that
it will one day be discovered by an advanced civilization.
"I send greetings on behalf of the people of our planet..." the English-speaking man begins, the first
sound stored on the disk. After that, we welcome the civilization in every language in use today.
But it is what follows that I mean to use in my discussion today. When the last greeting is voiced,
the first selection of music begins. Those alien ears will be treated to Bach's "Brandenburg Concerto
No. 2," in all it's splendor.
This is how it should be. I have heard this Concerto, and in the words of the Biscuit: I'm drawn to
it. It moves me; touches my soul. It is how I would want our people to be represented, for it shows
the very essence of humans at their best. Bach is a representation of our creativity, of the artistic
side of man.
Imagine, if you will, what the alien race would think if a different tune followed our welcomes. What
might their reaction be if instead of sweet classical music, they heard gangsta rap?
"Welcome."
"Wilkommen."
"Yo! Check it! Everybody chillin'? Got to kill me a cop, an' grab me a ho!"
So help me God, if that should happen, let the aliens put us out of our misery.
But, that doesn't seem likely to me. They only put MUSIC on messages to other planets, and as we all
know, rap is not music.
Oh! You disagree!? Rap is music??? Well, I'm not just some columnist full of hot air. I'll sight my
evidence for my case. If you have the intellect to understand my argument, read on.
If not, by all means turn up Puff Daddy and lay in your insignificant stupor.
Why rap is not music:
1. Real music vibrates with the soul, rap vibrates the stereo. Listen to Bach. Listen to the Beatles.
Listen to Natalie Imbruglia. They make you feel good inside. The lost innocence of childhood is
remembered there, in the chords and vocals. Simply put, you feel the harmony between the music and
that piece of divinity in all of us. What is remembered in rap? A drive-by shooting? A night you
showed your woman who's boss?
The soul feels nothing for rap. This must be the reason people have to listen to rap at decibels on
par with a jumbo jet lifting off inside your head. They try to vibrate their soul by vibrating their
body. Doesn't work, guys.
2. Real music has a positive influence on a culture. Jazz was the most effective tool against
segregation. The lyrics of the slavery fields had evolved into a music full of emotion, which educated
a generally disinterested man on their plight towards freedom.
Rock and Roll brought us out of the strict, post-war era of sexual repression, and brought about the
spiritual movement of the late sixties. Rap, on the other hand, offers nothing positive. It's lyrics
promote substance abuse, improper English, and disrespect for our fellow man.
3. Intelligent people do not listen to rap. Music is an artistic expression of an intelligent and
creative mind. Whether it's Beethoven or the Cranberries, there is a precise thought in the method.
The creators of music are intelligent, and the ones who listen are likewise intelligent because they
realize the complexity, yet subtleness involved. Is there anything complex or subtle about Snoop Doggy
Dog? Show me a member of Mensa driving a hopped-up escort with the windows rattling and base pumping
out over such drivel as, "That's the joint. That's the jam!"
I could go on, but it would be pointless. Obviously, the only ones still reading have IQ's high enough
to share my hatred for the "venue formally known as music."
If, however, a morlock has skimmed over my evidence, let me offer this idea: Wipe that arrogant grin
off your face, listen to Mozart, and lose the belt, 'cause it ain't helpin'.
Until next time, constant reader, I be chillin' in my crib.
OPINION || TODAY'S
STATER